Spirit of a Father
by Kewii
Summary: Boushin is about to become the new Emperor of Konan. Unfortunately, he realizes that his father has left him a lot to live up to. Can Boushin come to terms with his father's history and begin his own journey of greatness? Spoilers up to Eikoden


Author's notes: Fushigi Yuugi belongs to Yu Watase, not me. Special thanks to Allie, my beta. Thank you for reading.

* * *

**Spirit of a Father**

His image reflected someone proud and strong. Inside, Boushin felt far from how he looked. His imperial robes were tailored to fit him perfectly, but he felt as though they should have been too large. Wanting to be alone, Boushin dismissed his servants and forced himself to examine his reflection in the golden oval mirror.

He still looked like a boy--well-dressed and obviously wealthy, but still just a boy. He was supposed to be a man, but if you removed his ceremonial red and white robes then he would look no different from any other twelve year old. Boushin walked away from the mirror and examined his bedroom, which also told him that he should be a man. His toys had all been removed, even the stuffed bear that he'd had since his father passed away. The rich red colours spoke of strength and honour – traits that he was expected to fulfill.

Boushin left his room and began to wander around the palace. He paused when he reached the room that Miaka, the Suzaku no Miko had stayed in when she had joined his father to save Konan. His father –Hotohori — had been so strong. It was in this room that he had stood up to Tamahome, another Suzaku Seishi. Countless times, Boushin had been told of his father's desire to protect the Miko and how he had willingly and humbly backed down when he realized Tamahome loved her.

Boushin walked away from the empty room, his footsteps echoing loudly against the memory-filled walls. He moved in the direction of the courtyard, feeling compelled to visit another site that had proved his father's greatness. In this courtyard, Hotohori had fought an equally strong Tamahome, after he had been infected with the drug, kodoku. Boushin stared at his own hands and questioned whether he could do the same. Did he have the strength, courage, and skill to beat a man who threatened Konan? Boushin didn't have an answer.

The path from the courtyard led to the lake. It was the same lake that Boushin had studied as a child, wondering how his father had been able to save the Miko when she had attempted suicide. Boushin dipped his hand into the lake and allowed the cold water to drip from his fingers. He knew this story by heart because it had left a vivid impact of his father's strength on his soul. At this lake, Hotohori had emerged clutching an almost-lifeless Miaka. Boushin could see the droplets dripping off his father's robes and smell the water as Hotohori carried the Suzaku no Miko.

Boushin dropped the water that he had been cupping in his small hands and stood. He looked towards the mountains; they were too far to be seen clearly, but Boushin knew that even more stories of his father's bravery and strength existed outside the walls of Konan's capital, Eiyou. Hotohori had lived a great life, one that Boushin should have been proud of. But it was because Hotohori had had such a great life that Boushin was afraid.

Boushin sighed and turned away from the mountains that were beyond his sight. He walked with purpose to something he knew he needed to face.

Moments later, Boushin made his way up the stone steps of Suzaku's shrine. He entered the shrine, taking note of the artifacts the room housed. Nuriko's armbands, Chiriko's scroll, and Mitsukake's pouch of holy water all held positions of honour around the statue of Suzaku. Boushin approached the golden statue that was casting long shadows into the back of the room. As Boushin bowed and said a quick prayer, he realized he didn't have much longer, the ceremony would begin at sunset. Yet, it was not Suzaku that he had come to see -- it was his father's shinken that had called Boushin to the shrine.

Boushin lifted the shinken from its place of honour. He had only ever used the blade once and that was when his father had temporarily possessed him. Boushin unwrapped the sword from the cloth blanket that protected it. He could feel the weight of the shinken as he held it in his hands. He pulled the blade out and held it up to his face. The blade was meticulous, such a perfect blade, yet it had been unable to save his father's life. Hotohori had died fighting for Konan. Emperors were not expected to ride into battle, but Boushin's father had chosen to fight with the soldiers. He hadn't just been an Emperor though --he had also been a Suzaku Seishi. He had given Boushin a lot to live up to.

A voice from behind Boushin intruded on his thoughts.

"He was a great man."

The shinken suddenly felt heavy in Boushin's hand. He wanted to drop it, but settled for lowering it to his side. He turned to face his mother. Her face looked concerned--her eyes were wide and critical as they examined her son. She stepped closer to him, her deep blue ceremonial robes rustling with each step. She lightly rested her hand on her son's shoulder and looked into Boushin's eyes.

"He believed you could do it."

It was a simple statement, but it penetrated Boushin's heart. He felt tears in his eyes and he wished his father could be here now, but it was only because Hotohori was dead that the coronation could take place.

"He never knew me," Boushin stated simply. It was a fact. While his father had been dying, Boushin had been born.

Boushin strode away from his mother, still grasping his father's shinken.

"He has always watched over you –and me. I can feel how proud he is. I know you will feel him when you need to," his mother replied, taking his hand between her soft, white palms. "He did not always do it alone, Boushin." There was a touch of sadness in her voice as she gazed at the artifacts of the fallen Seishi. Her eyes seemed to hold the longest on Nuriko's bracelets, but she broke the look and faced her son again.

"I must finish preparing for the ceremony. Goodbye, Boushin." His mother hugged Boushin for the last time and left the room. Boushin could feel the wet spots on his robes from the tears that had fallen from her eyes.

* * *

The steady rhythm of the beating drum announced Boushin's arrival to the ceremony. He felt like his heart was beating as loud as the soothing pounds. The courtyard that Boushin had stood in earlier was now lit by candles. The sun had set, but a few last rays of light and the candles provided enough light for Boushin to take in his surroundings. His administrators, who had all been called on to witness the ceremony, lined a path up to the High Priest. Even though he was just across the courtyard Boushin felt like the path stretched forever.

Boushin focused on his destination. He could feel every eye on him and had to force himself to look straight ahead. Finally arriving at the priest, Boushin bowed from the waist until his upper body was level with the ground. He waited while the priest considered him. Finally, the priest trickled holy water over Boushin's head and stepped back. Boushin stood up straight as the priest offered his own bow. Boushin nearly sighed with relief. The High Priest's bow signified that he accepted Boushin as a worthy candidate to become Emperor. It was expected, but not assumed, that Boushin would receive the priest's approval. Wars had been started when the High Priest refused to acknowledge a candidate. At least Boushin no longer had to address that fear.

Boushin turned to face his administrators. The most difficult part of the ceremony was about to begin and the administrators would be watching his every action very carefully. While Boushin stood in front of the administrators, waiting for his first test, he noticed the colourful flags being flown by the banner-men. He was especially drawn to the vivid red pennant that represented Boushin's blood right to be emperor. He tore his eyes away from the flag when the priest led the group in the opening prayer to Suzaku.

By the time the ritual prayers had been read night had fallen over Konan. Boushin could no longer see the bright flags that symbolized the virtues he was to fulfill as a leader. Courage, honour, and pride were all expectations Boushin hoped he could live up to. Not just for his people, but also for his father. Under the stars, Boushin had to perform tests of his mind, body, and spirit. He knew this from his studies, but he did not know what tasks he would be put through.

The hours faded into each other as Boushin proved his merit throughout the night. Periods of questioning and skills were broken with times of reflection. He was asked about the mistakes of his ancestors and then left to reflect on why they had made those mistakes. Physically, the most difficult task had been proving his swordsmanship against his teacher. It had been a demanding task, to defeat the man who had taught him, but after an hour of battling he had won the upper hand by fainting a move to his right and driving home a hard left. Afterwards he had been left to reflect on the pain he had endured to win the battle. The tests of his spirit had involved patience, honour, and respect. By the time the first beams of sunlight inched into the Kingdom, Boushin was exhausted. He was relieved when the High Priest approached through the crowd. Nearby, loud bells began to ring throughout Konan.

Boushin stood straight as the High Priest came to him. This time the High Priest bowed to Boushin and Boushin inclined his head returning the respect. He then passed Boushin the imperial crown, which Boushin proudly placed on his head. The High Priest turned to the administrators and declared Boushin was now Emperor Reizeitei. With those words Boushin's old name was gone. Calling him by his childhood name was now a sign of disrespect.

In small clusters the administrators fell to their knees to offer Reizeitei their support. A second strong feeling of pride washed over him. This time, however, it felt different. Almost as though it was coming from another person. The sense of pride made Reizeitei's old insecurities leave him and a new confidence filled his soul.

Outside of the gates to the palace, Boushin could hear the people gathering. He knew it was time to greet his people. He descended from the stone steps and made his way down the path of kneeling administrators. He stopped first in front of his mother, now the Empress Dowager Yotaigo.  
"Emperor Reizeitei," she greeted him, holding up a gift. It was his father's shinken.

Honoured by the gift, Reizeitei accepted it and leaned over his mother. He whispered in her ear, "I can feel him."

She smiled proudly at her son. "You're not alone. You can lead us," she replied.

Reizeitei stepped back from his mother and moved toward the gates—and his people. Reizeitei locked eyes with a boy who looked a few years younger than he was. This was an innocent child that Reizeitei had to protect. He was now a man, he could not wish to be this boy—and he didn't. This morning Boushin had not believed that he could lead these people, but Reizeitei now knew that he could do this.

He was ready.

**The End**


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